


Surreal

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [71]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>surreal: adjective: səˈrēəl: Having the disorienting quality of a dream; unreal; fantastic</p><p>from the 1930's from surrealism</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surreal

John paused for a moment before he returned to the couch with the popcorn, thinking just how surreal their lives had become. Sure, life at 221B was never what one could call normal, but ever since that case when John nearly died for Sherlock, and they both finally let down their walls to admit, well, you know- life had become almost dream-like.

Tonight was a case in point: John returned from work, expecting a lump of stroppy detective on the couch; instead, he found him in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner, including his favourite sticky toffee pudding, and he was singing along to Christmas carols booming from the speakers.

"You're early," he grinned as he kissed him lightly. He was wearing an apron over that purple shirt that did something peculiar to John's rational mind. "You have time for a shower, love. And there is a bottle of wine if you want to open it." All John could do was nod, as his brain processed all the new data flowing in, Sherlock went to the shops, cooked, knew his favourite pudding and was singing-

When he returned to the lounge, the table was set with candles, somehow there was real china and silverware, the wine was already poured, and Sherlock glanced up from the table with a look that took John's breath away.

"You keep that up and dinner will be ruined," John muttered softly, before he wiped the last bit of flour from the tip of Sherlock's nose. "What's the occasion, love?"

"It's been a month since you've been home. I wanted to do someth-"

"Oh, love, don't-" John reached across the table to wipe a tear away, then took Sherlock's hand and kissed it lightly. "I'm here, yeah?"

Sherlock nodded and took a deep breath, "I know, I just needed you to know how important you are to me, I've just taken it for granted that you will always be here and I learned the hard way how easily you could be not here, sorry, terrible grammar-" He sniffed, then laughed. "Eat before it gets cold."

They chatted about bits of nothing as they made their way through roasted chicken, those tiny potatoes that John adores, green beans with almonds, and homemade bread. Two empty bottles of wine and the empty pudding dish were all that remained as Sherlock carefully rose from the table. "One more surprise, go make some popcorn and I have a movie to share with you."

John stared in amazement.

"Go!" Sherlock giggled.

John laughed as he realized Sherlock had put on Die Hard, a traditional American Christmas movie.

"What?" Sherlock turned and grinned at him."It has the best villain in it; you know how I feel about Alan Rickman." John put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and sat next to him on the couch. Sherlock stretched out and laid his head in John's lap; vibrating softly as John ran his fingers through his curls.

"I love you," John whispered to Sherlock as he felt the detective melt into the couch.

Sherlock turned his head to look up at his blogger, "I love you, always." He turned back toward the telly and sighed as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
